Crinkled Parchment
by TheMockTurtle
Summary: The war is drawing everyone in, even those who had refused to get involved. The press is coming down heavy on the Auror Department for strange occurrences of non-Auror personnel entering to fight. Daily Prophet Reporter Marlene McKinnon is out to get answers behind the vigilantes and the Black turned Auror, but will Sirius give them to her? What will Marlene choose when she notices


**Crinkled Parchment**

TheMockTurtle

**Summary  
** In 1979 the war is drawing everyone in, even those who had refused to get involved. The press is coming down heavy on the Auror Department for strange occurrences of non-Auror personnel entering to fight, specifically the Order. Daily Prophet Representative Marlene McKinnon is out to get answers behind these vigilantes and the famous Black turned Auror, but will Sirius give her the story? Where will Marlene's allegiance lie when she realizes the war is much more than a headline and there is much more at stake than her job?

**Chapter 1**

_November 15__th__, 1979_

**"Duck!" a voice thundered above the screams and jet blasts that whizzed violently past ears. **A loud bang was heard followed by the moaning and creaking of a pillar coming to its end in a pile by the feet of the lucky ones. No one engaged in a heated battle seemed to pull their focus long enough to give much care; especially that of a rugged wizard covered in the soot of fallen pillars. His hair was as dark as ebony wood, laced with the same familiar white soot, his hand, running a deep bloody gash, held his wand tight. More streaks of red jets whizzed by his head, hitting wizards square in their chest, and sending them flying back into the adding rubble.

In a hard jabbing motion and a loud, "_Impedimenta!_" the wizard had managed to end his locked duel with the dark cloaked and masked wizard—stopping him in mid-motion.

"Sirius! Look out!" came a cry from the far end of the room. The wizard whipped his head around in alert and found himself dodging a yellow blast by an inch. His stone cold eyes turned up searching the wreckage of the once respected auditorium. A shrilling laugh echoed through the rubble, a laugh so familiar his heart raced in an imminent fear with his ears thundering above every cry and collapsing pillar.

"Quick, cousin." The mocking voice called to him, and in an instance his eyes found themselves locked on the slinking black figure in the middle of the auditorium. She was among many of the duelling Aurors and black cloaked masked wizards, her wand raised, and her heavy eyes dark.

The wizard sneered with his wand tight in his grip, he was sure he would snap it in two if he focused enough. The demented witch tilted her head and in an instance the wizard's stomach curled from the uncanny familiar features he could trace on his own face.

"I didn't know Voldemort recruited demented hags." Spat the wizard, taking a cautious step backwards.

The witch only cackled loudly before raising her wand, "Humour was never your forte, Sirius." She spat venomously before jabbing her wand, "_Crucio!_"

Sirius deflected it with a whipping motion of his wand and his eyes narrowed, "_Reducto!_"

The witch jumped backwards and the ground where she once stood was now stained with a scorch mark. She clicked her tongue loudly, mocking disapproval lining her face, "Not as quick as I thought you were." She deflected another hex he threw at her and in no time they were locked in a furious hasty battle.

Her cackling laugh erupting through the auditorium and the battling wizards' ears every so often.

"I always felt you were fucking crazy, Bellatrix. Now, I can't help but wonder how Auntie Druella feels about kicking me out of dinner for stating the obvious." Sirius barked back at her as he shielded a red jet making its way towards his head.

Bellatrix said nothing instead leapt forward with a loud cry erupting deep from the back of her throat, her face a shade of red Sirius had only seen it once turn before. She furiously whipped her wand in front of her, a needy haste overcoming her and blinding her by fury.

Sirius was taken aback by her quick lashing hexes he tried as best as possible to dodge and shield. In a miscalculated movement and wide grey eyes, Sirius stumbled over a piece of rubble marble allowing him to distract himself just enough time to allow Bellatrix's hex to hit him square in the chest. His wand falling from his grip with a clatter and his eyes clenched tightly from the suspense of what was to come.

In an instance before Sirius could think of scavenging forward for his lost wand, a deep shocking pain rattled through his body and proceeded to consume his every joint and muscle. He fell forward to his knees before he could stop himself, the ground growing closer. His bones ached and his muscles felt alight with a fire so hot tears sprung to his eyes. A shriek so loud shook through his vocal chords, ripping and fighting its way into the ears of those around him. Sirius no longer had control over his movements as his mind scavenged to retreat back to the present and collect his wand, but the pain was too much. The pounding of heart hurt as if with every beat a jolt of electricity would find its way through his body. Another curling shriek fought its way through Sirius's strangling throat, which he was sure was on fire.

His mind clouded with pain and fogged with the repeating thought of praying to be freed from the fire overcoming his body. Sirius could not acknowledge what exactly had occurred next, but a large white blast came from the side-lines and in one movement blew Sirius back into the rubble of pillar debris. He flew backwards as if by a deep blow to the stomach, his body consuming the impact in a black unconsciousness, which in at this moment Sirius was grateful for anything to distract him and end the Cruciatus curse ripping apart at his skin, bones, and heart.

**"Stay clear! Everyone, stay clear!****Martha, get security on ****level four****!" **A wizard in a white coat was pushing a stretcher that held a very unconscious and much bruised Sirius Black. Reporters were buzzing around the waiting room at the emergency room entrance having been informed on the attacks no doubt, and knowing very well that the Head Auror would make it his responsibility to be at St. Mungo's the moment his Aurors would enter. Dozens of others stretchers were being pedalled behind two swinging doors. To any bystander it would be clear that this was no moment to intervene, families were arriving and asking questions as it was, and the reporters made it no easier for the work the Healers had cut out for them at the moment. But that didn't matter to any dedicated reporter; it was about getting answers and getting them fast—especially when relating to any news in the development of the war.

Regardless of the mess that was happening in the waiting room, a battered wizard bolted through the entrance, but seemingly stable enough to enter with such vigour and energy. His jet black hair was sticking out more unusually in odd place, his glasses askew and broken on his long nose where a smudge of dry dirty blood adorned his upper lip.

"Sirius Black!" James Potter called out amongst the hustle of chaos. He watched through blinding flashes of lights that were reporters and the whizzes of colours that were Healers. His hazel eyes were darting in all directions for any sign of help and when they final landed at the front desk, it was crowded by a hoard of wizards in night gowns and crying witches. They all were yelling at the same time, demanding answers in a chorus of pleas.

James knew it would be no use to even attempt to break through the mob and decided that his unruly instincts would kick in. He darted for the swinging doors of the emergency hall only to be stopped by an overwhelmed pudgy Healer holding off the reporters.

"Sir!" The wizard called to him, his arm outstretched in a hopeless attempt to keep James at bay, "Sir! You need to stay back! This area is a restricted area! You'll have to wait!" The wizard barked at him before a hot rage took over James in desperation. Time felt like an irrelevant factor in those moments as his goal seemed further and further attainable.

With two aching fists and wand forgotten in his pocket he slammed the healer against the door "I'll show you to the fucking restricted area if you don't let me through!" The healer's watery blue eyes widened and fear rippled through him as the gasps circled the unfolding scene.

"James!" came a reprimanding cry. James' wheeled around, the healer forgotten in a heap of himself against the doors.

His eyes met the sight of a poorly dress Lily: her hair a bird's nest, her nightgown stuffed into jeans in a hopeless attempt to be presentable, and a crazed expression glazing over her eyes.

"What the devil do you think you're doing? Come here!" and her tiny pale hands managed with all its force to wedge James out of the scene he had managed to present.

"Lily!" James manage to cough out and prepared himself, despite of his desperation of the forgotten quest, for Lily to reprimand him further but instead she wrapped her arms around him tightly and buried her face in the crook of his neck. The burning in his neck assured James that Lily was repressing her tears as much as she could.

She finally pulled away, red faced and eyes slightly dampened, "What happened tonight?" Her eyes scanned the chaos before pulling James further away, "When Moody sent the Patronus I didn't know what to think… just- what happened?"

James chewed his lip anxiously, his eyes still scanning the room, and his attention minimally directed to Lily as it tugged further to be behind the swinging door to Sirius.

"Lily- I can't- Sirius. I need to get to him—" James began, her hands firmly against Lily's shoulders.

"What happened, James? Moody should be here any minute now. Where's Sirius, what happened?" The words tumbled out in a frenzy from her quivering lips as her eyes too began scanning the reality before them.

"We were at the London Coliseum tonight, some Death Eaters thought it fun to raid a muggle play. The place was in ruins by the time I got there, swamped with Aurors and Death Eaters. And—I don't—I don't know, Lily, we were partnered together but there was so much wreckage and dust it was hard to keep track of each other. I just heard him scream—this—fucking horrible scream, Lily, I can't get it out of my head." James had now realized his voice was cracking and it was getting harder and harder to talk with the swelling in his throat.

He would have been distracted were it any other day, any other situation, and if it weren't his best friend, his brother he had helped pull out of the rubble, his own fingers aching at the memory of clawing through marble and concrete, and bending through iron to find any sign of Sirius.

His heart raced remembering the praise he felt not to find a mangled body. Tears had sprung anew in his eyes from renewed hope as a fellow companion cried he was still breathing, there was pulse—that Sirius Black would live to see another day. But he had been carried away so quickly he had not managed to catch up.

"Lily, _please_, we need to find him. I need to make sure he's okay. He's—he's all—you and him—at the end of the day, Lily, he can't—" the tears were hot against his cheeks, streaming down along his neck in sloppy puddles ending at his collarbone. James' grip on Lily's shoulders had tightened as he felt himself feeling her out to keep him up.

Lily, without a second thought, took James in her arms and led him to one of the rare vacant benches as he buried his face hard against his hands, glasses and all. Although it may not have been the moment, she couldn't have helped but remember those same glasses on her face during their seventh year, sending her eyes wonky and imitating James. It sunk deep in her stomach how drastically things had changed. Her desperation to find Moody or any sign of help was swelling after taking one sweeping look around the waiting room.

They played the waiting game, if not for long, James' tears had subsided into a vacant stare across from him, and Lily was anxiously shaking her leg as she prayed for any sign of Moody. The crowding only got worse with the coming minutes, reporters and concerned wizards congesting the entrances and seats. Witches were sobbing in the corners and the smell of coffee was thickening the already tense atmosphere.

Then came a loud rattling at the entrance doors followed by a blur of a figure and a horde of reporters being held back outside of St. Mungo's. Moody and his Hit Wizards had arrived and were already being filled in by an elderly looking Healer. Reporters that were already in the waiting room were clawing to get a comment or a picture but were being shoved in great masses out the doors. Before giving it a second thought Lily and James had leapt to their feet towards Moody's hustling posse.

"Moody!" James croaked out and the older wizard stopped mid listening to turn and see James' state. He was mere feet away from the door James had been so desperately trying to enter earlier. Moody's face contorted into anger for meagre minutes before gesturing harshly with his head to tag along.

"Let's go, boy. Tell your lady friend to wait here; I don't want to draw too much attention." Moody growled before turning back to the Healer who had a large stack of papers in front of him that he was flipping through hurriedly before leading him and now James through the doors.

He took one last look at Lily who nodded in understanding and sat herself back down at the benches they once occupied.

James found himself in a busy hall of slamming doors and closed curtains. Wails and shrieks met his hears with thundering cries for Gods they didn't believe in—all chanting in their own pace for it to be over, for it all to end.

Healers were whizzing by him, too concerned and too busy to acknowledge or handle his presence. Moody hadn't acknowledged him fully until the Healer had finished speaking, which he then motioned for the group of Hit Wizards he had walked in with to follow the elder Healer.

Once they were out of earshot, which was not difficult with the cries around them, Moody turned to James, "Tell me boy are you stupid or are you stupid?" He hissed out stopping James short to walk any further, "What part of head back to headquarters, _don't you understand_?"

"Moody, it's Sirius. I couldn't—" James began.

"Yes, you _should _and you _must_. Do you _want_ to blow our cover? Do you want to risk and endanger the lives of every other member for your fat mistakes? I should have known. Dumbledore should have stamped your file with 'failure to follow instructions'." He barked before continuing down the hallways, a file clutched tightly in his wrinkled grip.

"Of course not, but Sirius is family! Moody. I don't know if you saw what happened tonight—"

"Of course I saw what happened tonight. Sirius was reckless, taunting his batshit crazy relative—I don't doubt they're related now. But it's not excuse," Moody hissed under his breath, "You should have waited at headquarters, I knew when I didn't get word you had been accounted for you would be here."

James remained silent. He knew it would be useless to argue with Moody any further, especially after not following orders, he was just grateful to be getting somewhere closer to making sure Sirius was okay.

After a long pause Moody groaned, "But I guess that's what makes you one of us. Your damn loyalty." But growled quickly, "Make no mistake next time, Potter, I'll hex your sorry ass and give you a reason to be behind here."

James nodded reluctantly and swallowed harshly, "How… how is he?"

Moody took a deep sigh, "Not as good as I'd hoped, but not as bad. Took a nasty Crucitus to the chest, could have been to the head, but that last blow he took—whatever hex it is, they're still trying to figure it out left him a real nasty bruise to the lung. Of course, broken bones along the way."

James winced, "But that curse… it didn't come from Bellatrix, did it?"

Moody's fake eye swirled around before speaking cautiously, "No, that's the odd part. She was ready to fire a killing curse before Sirius was knocked back, from a completely different direction. I was hopping maybe it had been you—"

James stopped in his tracks, his eyebrows rising to his hairline, "No. Wait. Are you saying, someone knocked him back to _help_ Sirius?"

"That's what we're _assuming_. I've checked with the members and my men and they are all accounted for, wands checked and all and none fired such a curse. We're not sure what to think." Moody gave a deep rumbling sigh before gesturing to a door.

"He's in here, come on."

Without giving Moody's previous statement any further thought his mind jogged to the present situation and was ushered inside the brightly lit room.

Sirius lay still in the white draped hospital bed, face properly cut and bruised. His arm was in a sling across his chest, to be held in place to reconstruct whatever damage was made. There were discarded empty potion bottles at his side, dozens of droppers and wonky looking apparatuses. Complete relief washed over James as he nestled himself in a nearby chair.

"Oy Git." Sirius croaked terribly through pale battered lips, his eyes closed and unstirring.

James couldn't help but chuckle from the immense happiness washing over him, "Tosser, could appreciate I'm the only one here to see you didn't kill yourself."

"Nah… I know Moody loves me too much to not spend his nights at my bedside." His voice was raw against their ears as he strangled out the jokes. Moody grunted in bad taste and if he could he probably would have rolled his swirling eye in aggravation.

"You'll need to do a lot more ass kissing in these coming days. Reporters are going crazy because of this cute stunt you and your cousin pulled, Black. As if taking you on as an Auror already wasn't a risk enough."

Sirius remained silent before sighing deeply.

"What happened tonight, Moody… I mean, what exactly?" James asked.

"Distraction. At least that's what Dumbledore and I are speculating. This thing is a little too elementary for Death Eaters to be pulling at this stage, no real muggle casualties. If they wanted to have formed a mass killing they would have."

"Distraction from what?" Sirius croaked.

"Same question we're all asking."

The room slowly filled itself in a stifling silence, three minds racing with the possibilities of the new information and what exactly it would mean for the war growing more and more prominent with every passing attack.

**Not even a day after the attack the assembly hall at the Ministry of Magic** was swarmed with reporters, with cameras going off and quills of every colour in the air to catch the attention of Alastor Moody who stood before a podium. Aggravation was etching his already stress aged face as it was becoming harder and harder to settle the crowd begging for answers and jabbing questions out of terms. Sirius stood nearby, arm in still in a sling, along with a few other Aurors and Hit Wizards. They evaded any questions directed towards them and waited until Moody would indicate to escort the reporters out, which knowing Moody would not take long.

"Mr. Moody! Mr. Moody!" reluctantly Moody pointed towards the eager young male whose mop of brown hair gave him the appearance of a dirty mop, "Thank you, Mr. Moody, Charlie Trawn from the _Sunday Gazette_ here. What comment do you have to give to those who say the Auror's office is losing control over the recent attacks?"

It looked like Moody had counted to ten before answering in a deep exhale, "The Auror's Department is doing everything in its ability to get to the root of these attacks, but there has to trust that the department knows what it's doing. We've sent out alerts every time there is an attack to steer clear of these areas as our Hit Wizards and Aurors enter the field to contain the situation."

Another chorus of "Mr. Moody!" began before Moody pointed towards a blue quill held by a frail looking lady, hair the colour of straw, "Thank you, Angela Moore from the _Phoenix Times_, there's been speculation that the Auror Deparment may be infiltrated because the community doesn't trust who exactly you may be hiring these days. Many families are keeping their political ideologies a secret, how can we wizards have certainty that you're making the right decisions?"

"You can't." Moody barked in aggravation, there were hushed whispers of disdain through the crowd.

"I've heard there have been men in the field of these attacks who are unauthorized to be fighting there sent under your orders. Non-Aurors and Hit Wizards."

There was another wave of hushed whispers and a firing of photographs.

Sirius felt his stomach drop as his head whipped to the crowd of reporters he had lost interest in a long time ago, his cold eyes searching where the bitter comment had derived from. It came from somewhere deep down the middle of the reporters, a single perfectly plucked white quill stiff in the air from a woman in a grey skirt suit and robes. Her dark hair wrapped tightly in a neat bun at the back of her head, her brown eyes harsh and set at the Head Auror in front of them, and her lips tightly pursed.

"And you are?" Moody began testily, his eyes swirling around in caution of the new found voice.

"Marlene McKinnon, _Daily Prophet_."

Those nearby Moody could hear him groan in contempt but regardless composed himself to answer decently enough.

"If there are such cases, which are _rare_," Moody began as authoritatively as he could, "We have procedures to carry out; no citizen should be interfering in these matters. No more questions. Thank you." He announced before turning curtly and limping towards Sirius. He grabbed Sirius harshly by the good arm and started heading towards the elevators, many of the reporters still calling out hastily needing to have their burning questions answered.

"We need to talk." He hissed under his breath. Sirius was more than complied to follow and listen if only it hadn't been for the looming annoyance that was to come every time in his future to the sound of clicking heels trailing behind him.

"Moody!" came the bold voice that had once asserted itself so threateningly that it made Sirius previously startled, "Mr. Moody!"

In great hesitance and aggravation Moody unhanded Sirius' arms and wheeled around. Sirius had followed out of curiosity and saw the same woman from the _Daily Prophet_ standing before them, her jog coming to a slow as she noticed she had caught their attention. She glanced at Sirius for a mere unfocused and uninterested second before settling on Moody again.

"I'm McKinnon, from the _Daily Prophet_, certainly you must have gotten my boss' owl about the story we wish to cover?" she had come to a halt, there was no quill or notepad in her hands any longer.

Moody eyed her cautiously, "Right, I got his owl, yeah. Only reason I'm going through with this is to hush you press types up for good so we with actual jobs can properly get things done."

Marlene seemed unfazed by this statement and only pressed further, "So, you'll do it?" her brown eyes were searching Moody's face for any answer at this point.

"Yeah," Moody growled and shoved Sirius closer to her, "He'll answer any questions you have and what you need."

Sirius tore his narrowing eyes away from McKinnon and snapped to look at Moody perplexed, "What?!" He barked before Moody cut him off.

"He's useless to me at the moment and I'm sure he's got everything you're looking for."

Sirius glared at Moody, "I'm not doing some petty public relations work, I'm an Auror, I didn't sign up for this rubbish." But the Head Auror was having none of it as he raised his hand to silence Sirius.

"Belt up, Black. You do as I say, until you're in my position to say otherwise. Now, if you excuse us, McKinnon, we have actual business to attend to." Moody said before turning on his heel with the expectation that Sirius would follow in tow.

Sirius was left standing in shock and anger between two people he could not decide to hex first. He turned his gaze to look at McKinnon who had somehow conjured a quill and leather bound book and was scribbling away. She seemed to forget he was either there or could have cared less if he was.

"I'll send an owl for the meeting my editor will arrange." She said without even removing her gaze to look at him and then turning on her heel to head for the Floo network.

Sirius snarled, "Wha—?"

"Black! You coming?" Moody called from an awaiting elevator.

Sirius stormed his way towards Moody who was closing the elevator behind them.

"What are you playing at, Moody?" He barked. Sirius had the impending idea of sitting for hours answering annoying probing questions from a journalist already setting him on edge.

"Playing it smart."

"What?"

"Black, with the Order around and coming on the scene it's not wrong to assume people are beginning to catch on. I need someone from the inside to quiet these people down, someone who knows the right things to say and who is still working for the Ministry to ward off suspicion."

Sirius growled, "Why can't you send someone else like Frank or Alice? They like being around people and probably know how to handle this better."

Moody paid Sirius no mind, "Because I trust you won't mess this up, Black. Plus," he took a deep breath, "because you're a Black there's been a lot of speculation of funny comments like that _Phoenix Times _woman. You need to publicly, more than you already have, prove you're not what your family claims they are. It'll just help our department and the Order because you're efficient to the team, Black, don't make me say it again."

Regardless of the compliment, which Sirius knew he should have relished in since they came rare to never from Moody, he couldn't help but feel the dread that was coming from the thought of publicly denouncing his family. The same feeling of having been sorted into Gryffindor returned to his chest and swelled there, it was mixed sense of pride and impending unknown from the fear of what could happen, but none the less it felt right.

Then again no one said doing the right thing came easily as it felt.


End file.
